Obitine Month
by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: Details inside! A collection of Request One-Shots! First one posted as Chapter Two, details about the month posted as Chapter One. Hoping to get a lot of involvement!
1. Details!

Starting Obitine Month! (Mandated by Me)

All of March, I'll be accepting Obitine requests and posting one-shots on this story!

Send me your requests, any rating, anytime! Ill do fluff, romance, mourning, sexual, really whatever you feel like throwing out at me! I'm hoping for a big response for this! First request fic posted! Hope you all enjoy them!


	2. Dinner: Rated K

(A/N) First Request Fic from Evil Lord Kane! Excited to write this and write more! R and R, please! PM me your ideas!

Obi-Wan looked up from his Holo-Book, his comlink buzzing. He was off duty for the next week, a throbbing wound in his side being the reason. They had been instructed to ram through a Separatist blockade, and they had managed it. The twin blaster bolts that cut through the skin of his ribcage as he pushed two of his troops to safety had not been part of the plan, nor had the resounding explosion that had thrown him, Cody, and two of their other troopers feet in the air minutes later. But they had made it through, delivering much needed supplies and humanitarian aid.

He had, however, been placed on rest for two weeks. His wound was healing slowly, but making progress, but to get a call when the Jedi council knew what he was supposed to be doing was a bit odd. He took the comlink in his fingers, his confusion disappearing, Anakin was calling him.

"Hello, Anakin. What is it?" He was used to late night calls from his apprentice when they were home. He no longer lived with his old master, but he had a habit of not wanting to get his own food late at night, or after he had a couple of drinks. Obi-Wan had made more runs to the cafeteria after hours than he cared to admit, and had picked Anakin up from too many places in a borrowed speeder.

"Obi-Wan, thank force." He had to sigh, he thought he was going to have a quiet evening. "I'm not sure what's happened…"

He sounded out of breath, like he had been running or hurt or something, and Obi-Wan abandoned all pretense of thinking nothing was wrong. He started to worry, as he always did, that Anakin had finally gotten himself into something he couldn't get out of. "What do you mean?" He had unconsciously raised his voice.

"Not sure. Need you to come here, as soon as possible." He heard a loud noise through the other end of the comlink. "Senator Amidala's apartment. Hurry!" And the comlink cut out. Obi-Wan stood too quickly, clutching his side as a sharp pain stabbed him. He was already dressed, but grabbed a parcel of credits from the table by the door.

He slid into the two-seat speeder he had parked outside in the residential landing bay and took off through the city, going to the Senatorial apartments. It vaguely crossed his mind as to what Anakin was doing near Seantor Amidala's apartment in the first place, but he didn't want, nor have the time, to consider that at the moment. He parked in the landing area, paying the attendant watchin rows of speeders much nicer than the one he had been driving, and found his way up to Padme's apartment. Other senators and their families were milling about, he weaved through them, though a little less gracefully than usual, one hand on his side, clutching at the damaged skin that pulsed painfully with each heartbeat.

To his relief, he saw no signs of explosions, no fire, no armed guards anywhere in the vicinity, and started to wonder what exactly Anakin could have been up to. He came to the apartment, and, not bothering to knock, slid inside.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin was facing him, standing in the small open seating area where they first walked in. Obi-Wan took him in suspiciously, he didn't appear to be injured, no sign of blood, trauma, cuts, burns, bruising, or lacerations were on his apprentice. "I'm so glad you came so quickly."

"What's going on?"

"Can't say, Master. You'll have to go in there to find out." Obi-Wan was very suspicious. The wicked grin that Anakin had on his face was rarely a good sign, he started to walk suspiciously towards the dining area of Padme's apartment, and heard Anakin say form behind him. "I'll see you later." He wondered exactly how big of a mess Anakin had left him.

As he rounded the corner, Obi-Wan realized exactly how big of a mess it was; the room was dimly lit by the burning of quiet candles placed around the room and around the edges of the dining table. There was food everywhere, he noticed some of his favorites on the table next to a bottle of expensive wine waiting to be poured into crystal goblet sets. But more than that, there were two chairs at the table, and only one of them was empty.

In the other sat Satine Kryze, Duchess of Mandalore. She was dressed in a blue dress that hung perfectly over her body, wearing a simple sapphire blue metal headband instead of her typical exalted headdress. She smiled up at him. "This was not my doing." She said to him, and her realized that he had been staring. He blushed slightly, moving to sit so as not to appear any more uncomfortable with the situation.

"Nor mine. I was told Anakin was having some sort of crisis." He pulled up his to the table, and waited until she glanced at the wine before he once again stood to pour it, his uncommon blush growing deeper. He was glad that there was only candlelight, he didn't want her to see his face with the coloring it was now.

"Padme said she needed to speak urgently about deals for tomorrow's meeting." They laughed softly together, and he felt some of the tension leave him, even as he sort of sloshed the wine, barely managing to keep all of it in the cup. "I think, Obi-Wan, in my professional opinion, that we've been set-up."

He smiled across from her, taking a long drink of wine and observing her over the rim of the cup. She had always, even when he had been a gangly, uncertain teenager in her presence, been very confident in herself. "Well," he finally found the wrods to speak, "if they've paid for it, we may as well enjoy it."

And they did, speaking freely about the trials the two had overcome since their last meeting when she had returned after securing Mandalore's neutrality. He spoke of the more entertaining parts of his missions, neglecting to mention any gory details. He didn't want to speak of them, he doubted she wanted to hear of them. She spoke of Korkie, her nephew, of quiet evenings spent in restoring Mandalore to a peaceful existence, and he thoroughly enjoyed her stories. She was calming to be around, relaxing, and, though he would be loathe to admit it to her openly, her calm and evident intelligence that more than rivalled his own was always something of intrigue to him.

Finally though, their meal was done, and the spell between them was almost broken. He had only had two glasses of wine, enough to feel slightly warmer, want to reach out to her, but not nearly enough to affect his decisions. For a moment, silence settled between them.

"Would you like to come back with me?" She said, meeting his on his face. eyes as his blush, now fueled by wine, deepened on his face. "I'm staying up the hall." And, as if sensing his hesitation, "It isn't an obligation, Obi, I just thought Senator Amidala might want her apartment back."

She might not have meant it as an obligation, but a while later, when they were in sitting on the couch in her guest apartment, watching the beginning of a Holo-Movie on the screen in front of her couch, he felt very obligated to kiss her. So he did, speaking to her in a soft tone, leaning into her body, meeting her halfway between them.

Time seemed to pass slowly then, he removed her headdress with deft fingers so he could brush them through her soft hair, and they seemed to be pressed together for a lot of long, lost moments that could have been shared between them. He was encapsulated with her, pulling her close as she climbed into her lap, the movie forgotten in light of each other. And it all would have been perfect, if, after what seemed like hours of sitting comfortably together, he hissed in pain.

His side was acting up, she had placed a hand there, over his tunic, not knowing what was underneath. "What is it?" She looked panic and guilt stricken, moving both hands back from him, the one from his side, the other from where it had been cradling the side of his face, holding his lips to hers.

"I was injured on our last mission, it's the reason I've been in the temple for the last week or so." The panic lessened, but the guilt remained, and moved to separate herself from his touch. He held softly onto her wrists. "It's not your fault, you didn't know."

"I hurt you." She said simply, and he was instantly thrown back to their time on Mandalore together. After he had been injured getting her to a safe vantage point, she had the same look in her eye then viewing his multitude of wounds. If what she had told him when they were being harassed by Tal Merrick was true, that was the night she realized she had been in love with him all those years ago.

"No, Satine." He laughed gently, trying to comfort her. "Let me show you." He sat up slightly, and to his relief, she stayed rested over his legs. He undid the panels of his tunic, to expose the injury. He had not been expecting, however, the blood soaked bandage underneath. He cursed under his breath, and she gasped. They stood simultaneously, and went to the sink, where he gently pulled the ruined gauze off of his skin. They were bleeding slightly, he reached for a rag to press against them, but she beat him to it, running warm water over a cloth and holding it over the entrenched cuts until they stopped bleeding.

She then wiped them clean, and rustled around in the cabinet until she found a first aid kit, administering a bacta wrap and replacing the ruined bandages. The more her fingers moved over his skin, the redder his face got, and the more he aware he was that he was completely shirtless. She seemed to notice it too, finishing putting medical tape over the end of his bandages. "Thank you, Satine." He said, and his hands went unconsciously to her hips.

She ran a hand up her bare chest, sliding them slowly around his shoulders to tug down at his neck. "You're more than welcome." And she pulled him into another kiss.


	3. Wedding: Rated T

**(A/N) Hey, everyone! Obitine wedding request from ArcCaptainZero! Really enjoyed writing! Looking forward to more suggestions from you all, working currently on ones I have received! Please R and R, keep the momentum going!**

 **ObiAniSoka, I love Laugh Until You Obitine, they have a great Obitine tumblr, which is my jam! As for writing, that sounds great! If you want to post for Obitine month, please do, I'll tag and post on my profile!**

 **That goes for all authors! If you want to participate in Obitine month: send me suggestions, or feel free to write your own stories/one-shots and I'll totally promote you entirely for free as long as you let me know it's happening!**

He was pacing. In his many years serving as a Jedi, being thrown into corners of the galaxy with Anakin who had penchant for pyrotechnics, being shoved into corners, trapped under debris, launched onto battlefields: never in his life had he ever taken his nervousness out by pacing. And yet, here he was, burning a path through the soft carpet of his room, hands running through his hair, almost in anguish.

"You need to calm down." And, again, for once in his life, Anakin was sitting cross legged in a chair, telling him to calm down.

"I can't exactly calm down right now." He sort of glared at his former apprentice, who just grinned up at him.

"What are you even nervous about?" He asked, picking at a spot on one of his fingernails. "She already said yes. And you don't even have that much to remember Obi-Wan. The important part is the "I" and the "Do." Obi-Wan did not appreciate the sense of humor, but he slumped down on the bed anyway. His shoulders felt much lighter without the usual weight of his battle armor; he was dressed in something reminiscent of his Jedi garb, though. He had felt that actually getting married in his beige tunic and leggings would be pushing his luck a bit to far, but he wanted to look and feel like himself so Satine had arranged him a blended outfit, combining the basic, humble look of his Jedi tunic with colors fit for the consort of a Duchess.

His tunic was white, accented with, instead of his heavy utility belt, a simple, dark blue belt that matched the color of his pants exactly. He still had a clip for his lightsaber, which he had cleaned and polished the night before, and that was now lying on the bed next to him.

"It's more than that, Anakin."

"The Order's not going to find out, Obi-Wan." Anakin sighed, and Obi-Wan glared at him again. His apprentice didn't mind defying the order so much, but Obi-Wan had bigger concerns with it. He had finally though, allowed his heart to make a decision for him so he could marry Satine. He wasn't going to let it go to waste. "It must be something else."

Obi-Wan shook his head in disagreement, but there were a thousand things he was actually worried about. How often would he actually get to see her? What would this mean for her as a Duchess? What if the council got suspicious? What if he forgot the vows he had written for her? What if he could no longer be a Jedi after he had spent time together with her? What about making love with her? What if he did something wrong? What if, in some way they were married, he hurt her without meaning to? What if he died in battle? The buzzing of a thousand questions poured through his brain, and he clamped his hands on the side of his head, willing them to quiet down.

They didn't, instead coming to a dead stop when Padme came in, dressed in her Maid of Honor outfit, smiling at both of them. She was dressed in pale green, and Obi-Wan watched as Anakin's eyes lit up when he saw her. That's what he wanted from this marriage, and he realized, watching the two of them, that he could finally have that.

"We're ready, gentlemen."

* * *

Obi-Wan had never been one for ceremony, and even though he was marrying royalty, he had told the Duchess he didn't want a large ceremony. Her people knew she was getting married, they had sent gifts, mostly pieces of Mandalorian artwork, to the palace for the last couple of months; but they respected her wish to keep it private. IT was very small. Clearly, Obi-Wan couldn't invite his friends form the Order, nor any that it would be too risky to have them know they had gotten married. She had been selective as well, only having her nephew, Korkie as part of the ceremony, and a few others from Mandalore high nobility attend.

He stood at the front by the alter, the official a small, very elderly man whose thick rimmed glasses were a smidge to large for his face, but who was beaming at him each time he looked. He worked in the palace, and had seen Obi-Wan often as he came to visit Satine as their relationship grew. As Obi-Wan had gotten to know him, he had always made sure that he had warm blankets, fresh fruit, and a clean clothes in his guest room. For that, he had been grateful. He was nervous though, standing in fornt of these people. Until the music started.

Anakin, linked arms with Padme, came into sight. They were simultaneously best man and Maid of Honor, and Obi-Wan didn't think he had seen two people more happy to participate. They walked slowly down the aisle, Anakin grinning up at him, Padme giving him a soft smile before they came to their respective spots at the front of the room. Next in were a small Mandalorian boy, maybe three or four, with their rings on a cushion, and a little girl with her basket of flowers that she tossed around to decorate the aisle.

After them were the only other set of bridesmaids and groomsmen, Korkie and Ashoka who had discarded her Jedi garb in favor of a black dress that matched Korkie's clothing perfectly. Obi-Wan smiled, glad that she could be a part of this with them. He had hesitated at first, about telling her, but at Anakin's insistence, he had told her of their relationship and she had proven an invaluable bit of help in the last few months.

The music dropped, the small crowd of mostly elderly guardians paused and turned to watch. Obi-Wan couldn't help it, he gasped as she came into view. She was more than beautiful. Anyone could be beautiful. She was radiant, walking slowly towards him, hands around a bouquet they had chosen together. His nerves spiked then slowly relinquished themselves, her calm front helping to relive him of the stresses he had felt all that day. In moments, she stood across from him, her hands wrapped in his, their eyes meeting, and he knew what actual happiness could be.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, he felt the joy of their marriage bond as they slipped their twin rings, simple gold bands, entwined with blue sapphires, around their fingers, and spoke their vows in clear voices, tears coming to both sets of eyes, not of sadness, but of the happiness they could enjoy together.

"You may kiss the bride." And though it wasn't their first kiss, when her hands came around his neck, tugging him close, and his twined around the soft hair at the back of hers, both laced with the promise of forever; it felt like something new, something never felt before, had erupted between them.

* * *

He woke the next morning, unalone for the first time. The were wrapped together, a tangle of libs and blankets, warm in the soft morning sunlight. They were honeymooning on Naboo, in a private cottage

owned by Padme's family, her gift to them for the wedding. He moved his hands through her hair, the desire to move from her entirely absent from his body, reveled in her warmth.

She woke slowly, coming to in such an easy way that he was grateful, pressing a kiss to the top of her head where it rested fully on his chest. "Good morning, love."

She looked up, smiling at him, and used his chest as leverage to kiss him fully on the lips. Neither was free to speak for a long moment, every memory of their night spent together as husband and wife coming through them, pouring out in the unspoken love and passions that broiled around them.

"Good morning." She returned the sentiment, moving to climb off of him, afraid she was to heavy for him, but he held her fast with a warm arm around her waist He didn't want to separate from her, not when they had waited so long to be together.

"Yesterday was phenomenal." He said, and she let out a happy sigh in agreement, laying back down on his chest, feeling the deep vibrations there as he spoke. "I only ever dreamed of getting to marry you, I never thought…well, I didn't expect to ever be allowed to."

"Yesterday was amazing." She agreed, and he felt her hand slide down his chest, over his stomach, to settle on his hip bone. "But I know that today will be even better."

He laughed softly, feeling her move even closer to him. "What do you want to do today, our first day as husband and wife?"

She looked up at him, her eyes mischievous. "Well, I could think of a couple of things." And that was the last coherent thought he had as she pulled him into another kiss, her hands drifting back over his body.


	4. Last Nights: Rated T

(A/N) Request fic form ObiAniSoka, Satine and Obi-Wan's last night together on Mandalore! Please R and R as always! M rated one-shots also posted under the name Love in the Dark! Check them out! Send more requests, I'm loving them!

As half dressed, sitting on her bed, unable to look at her. It was his last night on Mandalore, she had finally been able to return to her palace, claim her rightful place as Duchess, achieve all that had been her goals since he and Qui-Gon had arrived on Mandalore over a year ago; and yet, as the silence hung heavy between them, it was clear there was little happiness in her motions. She had pulled his loose fitting robe around her shoulders, it and her hastily donned undergarments the only thing covering her, and she, like him, couldn't meet his eyes.

They were alone. Truly. Now, knowing what the dawn would bring, they could not even truly be with the other, not fully or how they wanted to be. Tomorrow would bring respite for all the feelings that had grown between them in their time spent together, in all of their stolen moments of gentle kisses, quiet words, almost silent lovemaking as they had avoided both death and the regrets that such action would bring.

He thought of all that had changed since their return to the palace. At first it had been extraordinary, the first week of their return had seemed never ending. His master had been busy with the diplomacy of the mission, he and Satine were free to spend their time together when she wasn't called to meetings and he wasn't pulled away by obligations. It had been an extraordinary week, of every type of reward imaginable: emotional, intellectual, physical. But soon after, Qui-Gon had begun to bring up their return to the temple that would soon follow as the peace resolutions began to pass. It had felt like some part of him was breaking.

He had waited, even tonight, when they had come together again and in addition to the desire her eyes always held for him, they had held a questions, on her to ask him to stay with her. As the night grew longer, their bodies spent, their words becoming quieter and softer, he realized that the question would not come. And if this was not what she wanted, he would not ask it of her; she had worked her entire life to try and secure her planet as a beacon of peace, finally, she could have that success. An affair with a Jedi could ruin everything, could be too much to handle in the face of so much needing to be done. But still, his heart ached with the belief that perhaps all of this had been a slight lie, that they had only fooled themselves into believing this was real love and not the byproduct of forced company.

"I don't have the force, Obi-Wan." Her words startled him, but with his acute control, he did not move, or turn to look at her. "I can't tell what you're thinking." He lifted his head, and let out a long breath, trying to dissolve the resolute tension from his shoulders. He looked at her slowly, and his the corner of her strong eyes, there were tears that she had not released the entire time they had been together, not even when she had been injured, or they had made love the first time in an old, barely lit cave on the far side of the Eastern Mandalore province. He didn't want to think of that night; of how much it had meant to him. Where her words and touches and feel had showed him all that the love between them, between two people, could be.

"The living force surrounds all of us, Satine," It didn't seem to be the time for rote Jedi teaching, but he had nothing else to offer her. If he was making a choice to abandon her here, leave her behind, and return to the temple and whatever was in store for him there, he had better be damn sure he knew what he was talking about. "It binds and connects all living things. You have it, it lives within you." To his surprise, she smiled, a small flush coming to her pale features. Instinctively, he leaned in close towards her, their bodies almost touching.

His robe she had pulled around her shoulders was lose, and on her exposed shoulder, he could see the scar she had gotten what seemed so long ago when they were running form the venomites. He reached out a hand to gently touch it, it, like so many things they now had, a marker of things that could not be changed. "That means we will always be connected, Obi-Wan."

It was a nice thought to have, to always have part of her with him. He didn't know if he could let himself believe it though; if their love was forbidden by the Jedi Code, by all he had been raised to believe, then surely it would not allow them to remain connected this way. His master knew more of the living force than he did, Qui-Gon's skill at channeling the Midichlorians around him, working them to help others, to help himself, was extraordinary; one that Obi-Wan hoped he might one day achieve if he was lucky. "Perhaps." He said, and her smiled faltered, but her hands pulled him closer.

"I am sorry." She said, and his last remaining twinge of hope that she might ask him to stay with her dissipated. He didn't know whether to be happy or distraught, his heart now felt like it was cracking in half, but in his mind, as he tried to picture telling Qui-Gon that he was abandoning the Order he had sworn an oath to, a small cut of relief came to him.

"I am too, Satine." She pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. He decided then that regardless fo what the morning would bring, drawing ever closer, that this last night would be there's/ It was the last one they could share as lovers, and he could not let it end like this. He gently touched her face, watched her blink up at him, and leaned into what could have been one of their last kisses, the robe separating them falling back off of her body and onto the bed where it would be forgotten in the anguished, gentle passions that would follow.


	5. In the Ice Caves of Ilum: Rated K

**(A/N) Anonymous Request fic. More Obi Centric, set in the Ice Caves of Ilum, subtle Obitine! Please R and R, this was an interesting one to right, want to know what you all think.**

He had expected Ilum to be cold. He hadn't expected Ilum to be this cold. His hands were gloved, and still he had to keep them shoved inside of his pockets for warmth. He was lamenting his new haircut that Qui-Gon had given him, it exposed more skin of his neck, and it felt like the ice was forming there, clinging to his skin.

But he pushed through it. He was finally, after waiting for so long, a Padawan. Qui-Gon Jinn's Padawan, no less! He was proud, finally having been chosen after years of hard work in his training. And today, as his quiet new master had told him, he would be getting his real lightsaber crystal. He was on his way to becoming a full Jedi, this was to be the first step.

Qui-Gon had warned him it would not be easy. Even as the older Jedi had sat cross-legged on a large flat rock in the open face of the Ilum ice caves, he had appeared very serious when speaking of the trials Obi-Wan would face. Obi-Wan now knew what he meant physically. He kept moving, watching his breath freeze in the air in front of him, but also surrounding him, he could feel the warmth radiating from thousands of small glints of light. Blue, green, purple, even small pockets of red shone in the ice; but none called to him through the force.

Instead, he kept moving, his heart and body pulling him forward down another long hallway. They seemed never ending, translucently reflective, brilliant and also harbringing. He moved his boots along the floor, keeping the thick coat he wore wrapped tight around him. Normally, this would be a mission that multiple Padawans would come on, they would disperse, but have the knowledge that they were not the only ones wondering, lost, in these caves. It was not a luxury he was afforded, he was the only one of the recently selected; he and Qui-Gon were needed on a mission by the end of the week so his lightsaber needed to be ready by then. He was alone. But not really, he told himself, there was always the force.

As if on cue, he stopped and turned into a small cavern. Everything about the room radiated with the power of the unifying force. It dispelled the cold he had been feeling, and in the back of the room, he saw a small, gleaming shape, blue and only barely encased in ice. He grinned, despite Qui-Gon's warning, he had found his crystal rather quickly. He started for it, eager with anticipation.

The room, which had been so bright, turned black and swirled around him, halting his steps. He could see his crystal, the only light available. He tried to make his feet move him towards it, but they seemed rooted to the spot.

 _There will come a time…_

A voice reverberated in the back of his mind. It might have been his master's, it was an older man, but it did not sound quite like Qui-Gon. Instead, moving through the darkness, two shapes appeared. One was a blonde woman, her hair tied back loosely, her blue eyes shining at her companion, a man, who after a few moment, Obi-Wan realized with a pang, was himself. And then, they were kissing, Obi-Wan's older form, maybe in his twenties, still a Padawan by his braid, had his arms wrapped around her.

 _When there will be choices to be made…_

They pulled apart, her hands on older Obi-Wan's chest, her eyes full of tears. "Why do you have to leave?" In a rush of emotion, Obi-Wan could hear the anguish in her voice. He wanted to help her, to go to her, and fix this. Why would he leave her, who was this woman? And then, as quickly as they had come, they disappeared, and his feet jerkily moved a step forward.

 _When your own strength will be your only ally_

Another shape appeared, and despite all of his Jedi training at the temple, all of his control over his emotions, he recoiled with fear from it. It wasn't human, it was a species he didn't know, skin colored as blood, lined with black ridges and horns jutting out from his head. He smiled coldly, and in his hands, he activated twin blades of red that cut through the darkness.

 _When the darkness will seem much easier_

In the same breath, the horned male swung out and stabbed his lightsaber through an unseen figure in front of him, his yellow eyes gleaming cruelly. Obi-Wan didn't see who he had killed, but the pain of it, the fury of that loss tore at his heart. He wanted to scream, but made himself not do it. A power unlike any he had ever felt surged around him, almost splitting with its energy, begging him to take advantage of it, but he resisted.

 _You, unlike others will be tested…_

In front of him swarmed a hundred images, a yellow-haired small boy who he got nothing more than a glimpse of. The horned man. A bald woman, her skin pale white and drawn over her features, holding a knife that was covered in blood. A man was suspended in chains behind her, bleeding and tortured, and as the man looked up, again, he saw himself in his eyes. He saw a war scene, bodies of soldiers lying strewn about, he saw war, he saw the horned man, he saw the blonde woman who he seen as he first came in, choking out a last breath. He saw, in these images, a funeral pyre where he could see his new master's face in the flames. Two small babies, a dying woman handing them to him.

 _And you, unlike them, must not fail_

The fluttering images faded. Instead it was replaced with a single image. A person, shrouded in a dark cloak, facing away from him, in his hand was a blue lightsaber blade. After everything else he had seen, he was expecting himself, but that was not was turned to greet him. He did not know this man, his features young, a scar above his left eyes, but his features were contorted to the point they no longer looked human, almost a parody of what a person should look like. He did not smile, not acknowledge Obi-Wan who now found that his feet were free to move, but he could not make himself for fear of what this man would do.

 _A Jedi must not know fear. This you must remember._

And that, he knew, was the urging he needed. He picked up one foot, stepping towards his crystal. The man did not move, but Obi-Wan could feel the same power that had surrounded him before coming from the image. The more he saw him, the less human he seemed, merely standing and staring, power coursing around him. Obi-Wan mad his body move forward, jerking his feet against the ice. The power was calling to him, trying to lure him in.

It was warm, wrapping him in comforting heat, trying to be allowed in his mind. He had never been so tempted, never wanted something so badly. It was making him promises. If he allowed it, he could have everything. Power. Influence. He could avoid this pain, all the things that he no longer knew the truth of, all these visions that gave him little promise of a happy life. But in his vision, cutting through the haze that the man was making, cutting through the power that was around him, his crystal still shone in the dark.

He reached for it.

 _Take it. It is the path to the light._

The man finally seemed to have noticed his approach, and he raised his blue blade as if to strike him down. Obi-Wan didn't pause. He couldn't pause. There was too much at stake. The blade swung down, but he met the man's eyes and it passed right through him. Like water, the vision collapsed from the top down, falling back to the ice that came back to his view as his fingers wrapped around the warmth of his crystal. He held it close to his heart, the pull of that other power now absent, his limbs weak, his mind racing as the clarity those visions had given him faded from memory as if they were a distant dream. He slid it into his pocket; now he could become a Jedi.

Qui-Gon listened, meditating silently on the rock in the front of the cave. His mind was on his conversation with Yoda only days early. There had been other Padawans ready to attend the Gathering, other young Jedi in need of lightsabers and it would have made sense to bring them all at one time. In fact, that had been Qui-Gon's plan, but it was not to be so.

The small green master had come to him late in the night, Obi-Wan already asleep in his room of their apartment. He had appeared troubled, and for reasons that Qui-Gon did not quite understand. He had encouraged Qui-Gon to take a Padawan for years, something that after Xanatos, he had little interest in until late. Obi-Wan, he knew the other master's thought, would be a stark contrast to his former apprentice. He had accepted this, and in their few days of quiet conversations, he had seen that were right. Obi-wan did not radiate the obvious strength that Xanatos had, but he moved with an almost silent grace, his force connection buried under a thick layer of constraints he had set u for himself. But as he had watched him concentrate, moving through the motions of all aspects of temple life, Qui-Gon had seen the unused power and potential that was available to his new Padawan.

But that had not been his discussion with Yoda that night. Instead, it had been about their trip to Ilum. Fabricating a mission that any Master/Padawan team could have handled for them, he had moved their trip up to be an individual one almost a week earlier than planned. With rightful questioning, Qui-Gon had finally gotten an answer from the small master. Obi-Wan's experience on Ilum would be unlike that of other Jedi.

Qui-Gon's had been simple enough, his crystal had hung suspended in a cavern of ice. During his youth, before training for years under Master Dooku, he had struggled with patience. There was no way to break the crystal, he had been forced to sit under it, waiting on the small sliver holding it there to melt until it could fall into his fingers. Such was common of the Gathering, to test the individual traits of Jedi learners that they needed to work on. According to Yoda, Obi-Wan's would be different than that.

"Face a great trial, young Obi-Wan does. Met with the dark side, he will be." In his words that followed, the implication Yoda's words had was clear enough; should Obi-Wan fail this trial, having so little formal training, being little more than a child, he would fall from the Order, be pulled from the light.

But there was nothing Qui-Gon could do for the boy. He had waited, meditating, on his return. Some Padawans took hours to search for their crystal, but in less than a single hour, he heard Obi-Wan's footsteps returning. He felt the fear creep up his neck. He felt bad for it, seeing the ecstatic look on Obi-Wan's face falter as he took in Qui-Gon's expression, but he couldn't help it.

"Did you find your crystal?" Obi-Wan looked down, rummaging through his pocket of his robes that were slightly too large and pulled it out. It was blue, a pure, gleaming blue that had Qui-Gon let out a tiny breath of relief into the cold.

"Am I supposed to speak of what happened, Master?" He was trying so hard, he wanted to be right. Qui-Gon reached out a hand and put it on his shoulder, feeling no traces of the dark side in the boy.

"Yes." He nodded, "But for now, let's return to the ship. It's rather cold in here."


	6. Love and War: T (writtenby ObiAniSoka)

**Hey guys, it's ObiAniSoka again. So this Obitine is about when Merrik had Satine in his hands and was preparing to explode the ship. Remember when Obi-Wan said, "Had you said the word, I would of left the Jedi Order," after Satine talked about their time on Mandalore and urged Obi-Wan to talk in return? This is a story about what Obi-Wan was thinking in between that pause.**

"I've loved you from the moment you cant to my aid, all those years ago." Satine says with a desperate plea in her eyes. But for some reason, I don't think she's begging for her life, she's begging for love. My love.

"Great." I say to myself. "Now Satine, really? Now? He's about to blow up the ship with all of us in it, killing both of us and this is what you do. Beg for my love when you know even if I say it, I will never be allowed to mean it. Really?"

Even Merrik thinks it's stupid because he says some remark under his breath about it that I don't fully hear. That's probably the one and only thing we will ever agree on in our lives.

I want her to hear something good if she is to die. Even if the ship isn't blown up, Merrik has a gun. At the same time, I want her to hear something honest. I'm not going to say that I love her because I can't and I don't. I extremely like her. I find her slightly sexually attractive. I find her demeanor kind and strong. But I don't love her. But I have to say something. Can't just stand here.

"Satine, this is hardly the time and place for-" I begin, but that look in Satine's eyes, that broken, sad, honest look stops me. I can't say that this isn't the time to talk about this, it's wrong. It's… inhumane.

Then I see it. Another look in those eyes. She's creating a distraction. She has a plan and she needs me. Even pacifists can be deceiving. She's a politician, all of them are corrupt. For example, Merrik here. He was a Senator. Was. I don't know why, I just can't trust them. I don't trust that whatever Satine has up her sleeve is working.

But she never lied to me all that time on Mandalore. No, she never, ever, ever, ever lied to me. She lied to other people, but not to me. She was honest about her feelings towards me, what she felt. I was as honest as I could be, for a Jedi. The truth is, I did love her. A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I loved Satine Kryze. I bathed with her, I slept with her, I loved her, I held her. I may not know her like I did before, but if the past few days of my life mean anything, she hasn't changed much.

But what if her plan doesn't work. What if she ends up costing her life. It's not like she'll fight back; she'd rather die a brutal death than do that. I need to take responsibility her. I just have to figure out a way to kill Merrik without him seeing his death coming. But if he does, we all blast into oblivion, as I like to say. I can't let Satine ruin her life if I don't battle this for her.

Then its comes to me. I do still love her. I miss her love. I want to love her just once more and I can't let her die. She'll never even talk to me if I force her to kill Merrik. I'll ruin her life, her purpose. Then what? Where does she go? What happens to Mandalore. If Merrik blows the ship, at least she won't have a chance to be mad at me.

I'm getting at what this plan is. Corner him. I can hear the clones come our way. By the time this plays out, they'll take care of it. But I have to pretend to be confused at the moment. Pretend to me mad at her for saying that. Pretend I have no idea what she's talking about. Pretend to not know Satine Kryze for just a few more moment.

But I can't. I can't hold back the truth.

"Had you said the word, I would of left the Jedi Order." I say. It slipped out of my mouth I swear. I meant to wait, I'm too early. They call me the Negotiator, more like the Lover. The troops won't get here in time. I was foolish.

But am I foolish to love Satine?


	7. Holiday: K

**(A/N) Request fic from ArcCaptainZero! Obi-Wan injured, goes to Mandalore for extended holiday! May do another, similar piece later, haven't decided! Not sure how I feel about how this turned out…R and R, let me know what you think!**

Apparently breaking several ribs and lacerating one of the tendons in your leg was a cause for serious concern. Apparently, it merited giving your entire battalion to the care of Ki-Adi Mundi. Apparently it mandated two weeks of "time away" for recovery. Apparently.

Obi-Wan had known that letting Anakin drag him to the med ward (literally. The tendon was not cooperating with typical walking) would be a mistake. Now he was seated on a freighter, approaching the Mandalore system on a ship he had borrowed from Padme. The Order had sent out feelers, trying to find planets that weren't active war zones for him to go and recover; Padme had offered him shelter on Naboo, an offer that he would have taken if not for a day later, a call from Mandalore came, offering him shelter and healthcare. He still saw the entire thing as unnecessary. He didn't enjoy being coddled like a child, no matter what state his leg and ribs may have been in. But he would have been lying to himself if he said he wasn't looking forward to seeing the Duchess.

Her last trip to Coruscant had them running through the lower levels, avoiding authorities and attempting to secure her planet's neutrality as well as deal with their personal feelings and mutual declarations of love. It had been anything but a relaxing time, fleeting and leaving behind a bunch of unresolved issues. Despite these things, that had been eating away at the back of his mind for ages, he was excited to see her.

The ship skirted through the Mandalorian atmosphere, the palent the hallmark of pristine neutrality. Everything was clear, the Great Lake that rested next to the city was glittering brilliantly in the midday sun, the streets they flew over were bustling with people, carrying bags and boxes in their arms. When they finally docked on the palace landing platform, Obi-Wan could see why the master's ha agreed to let him come here; it was very serene. Very calming. Until her saw her.

She was waiting for him, and as he exited the ramp, favoring his leg; she smiled faintly. She looked phenomenal, as always; even when surrounded by mechanics doused in grease as they bustled to refuel and refurnish the ship for the pilot inside to return home. "Hello there." He said, trying to straighten himself out and stand straight. She took in his injuries in a single sweeping look, noting his leg and the hand that pressed against his healing ribs to alleviate some of the pressure he had there.

"Hello, Obi-Wan." They stood facing each other, neither quite sure what to say. "I'm glad you accepted my offer. I'm happy to have you here."

* * *

It seemed that even though the temple and his somewhat meddling apprentice were far behind him, he couldn't escape the medical unit. After their short walk through the palace to his guest chambers had resulted in a long gasp of pain from him, she had commanded he come here at once. It was embarrassing, to have her standing there, watching him as a medical droid investigated his legs, checking for additional damage.

"I'm fine really, I've already been receiving treatment!" She half-smiled at him. She was more than acquainted with his aversion to medical attention. The droid flashed him a panel of instructions, and he blushed with anther glance at her. She gave him a pointed look, and he knew there was no use arguing over the order. He undid the strings on his tunic, holding in his start of pain as he pulled the fabric off of his body, exposing his ribcage.

She looked horrified, and he supposed it did look quite bad. The breaks in the bones had healed, but the bruising had faded from a black and purple mess into a red and purple mess. The edges of the bruises were tinged with red, giving him the distinct look of having been beaten and thrown about. Which, he supposed, he had. Catching a full explosion to the chest, being set on by a pair of Magnaguards and a small set of battle droids while still lying on the ground was not his idea of fun. He was lucky to have escaped that mess alive.

The droid touched his ribs, its metal fingers cold and oddly soothing against the abused flesh. He didn't look at Satine, he didn't want to blush again, but he wasn't comfortable feeling so exposed, especially not to her. It was drawing out long repressed memories of the last time he had been injured like this: with her tending his wounds, her hands touching his skin in the quiet darkness of Greater Mandalore. Try as he might, he couldn't fight against those memories, especially now, since she had mentioned that that was the night she had realized she loved him, when he had saved her life. He tried not to think of her touch then, the look that she gave him, the soft kiss on his cheek as he had lain down on the ground, desperately trying to sleep off the pain that the cuts across his skin had given him.

The little droid stopped, whirring over to Satine and giving her a datapad before it rifled through a drawer, extracting a syringe and vial of bacta. The needle pinched the skin of his leg, but the relief that followed was instant, and he tested it by gently stretching the muscles. It repeated the motion to his ribs, where the skin seemed to pale slightly and the bruises continued to fade.

"It says you mostly need rest, and another set of these tomorrow, Obi-Wan." She said, thumbing through the Holo-Pad. He stood slowly, gingerly testing out his leg. "I'll show you the place for that. Perhaps some rest, then you can join me for dinner later." Satine didn't ask questions, but he was just glad she was not longer looking at him as he pulled his tunic back around his body.

* * *

"What exactly is this?" He wasn't one to question food, especially free food, but this was s special case. And Satine was a special person, he could tease her about the questionable food in front of him.

"A Mandalorian delicacy, Master Jedi. I'm surprised a worldly man such as yourself wasn't aware of it." He noticed, though, that she hadn't touched her plate either. "But, if I told you what was in it, I'm afraid you might not be so keen on eating it." He laughed and gently pushed the plate backwards.

"I believe I'll wait for the entrée." As if on cue, the palace staff came through the doors, carrying steaming trays of…well, of something. The chef bowed and stepped back, disappearing into the kitchen with a pointed smile and exaggerated gesture towards the palette.

"Another Mandalorian delicacy?" In his opinion, despite the fact that he mostly lived on rations and protein cubes, food should never be this grey. To his surprise, he used her fork to cut off a small end, lifting it up.

"I'm afraid so." He watched her, waiting to see her reaction to the food. Instead she pushed the fork towards him, moving the suspect food towards his mouth. "You first, Obi."

* * *

It was late. Too late for this. Or too early. It was far past midnight, when the people of Mandalore had gone to bed, sleeping soundly as the glittering lights of the city powered down to accommodate them. He had been unable to sleep, fueled by the hour long rest had managed to fit in earlier, and now, he was swimming in one of the pools that lined the gardens of the palace.

It was an activity he enjoyed, one he rarely got to partake in. He hadn't been planning this, so, while it had been easy enough to remove his tunic, he had been forced to swim in his Jedi leggings which were clinging to him uncomfortably. The water was such a relief on his injuries, running cool relief along his legs, and over his abdomen, soothing the bruises and inflammation that pushed at the edges of his skin. He submerged himself under the water, resting beneath the surface for as long as his lungs would let him. He thought of his day here, spent in the company of the Duchess.

They had not spoken, not explicitly, of the exchange between them. Instead, it had been a day spent in quiet, blissful company. With gentle laughter, serious discussions of the state of affairs, swapped stories, and the fiasco that was the traditional Mandalorian dinner. He was having dangerous thoughts for a Jedi, too many thoughts of her. Coming her had not been his best idea, and yet, all he could think of now was how he wanted to see her again the next day.

He surfaced, drawing in a long breath, and stepped out of the pool, gathering his displaced tunic. He was soaking wet, but there was warm shower waiting in his room; he pulled the tunic back around him, letting the wet fabric cling to his skin as he stepped back towards his room. He looked up and saw her, standing against the door of the garden entrance, watching him return.

"My apologies, Duchess, I thought I was being quiet…" He said sheepishly, suddenly aware that for the second time today, she could see the definitions of his chest and stomach.

"You didn't wake me. I simply couldn't sleep." He was now standing facing her. Her exalted headdress was gone, her hair down loose around her shoulders. She was still dressed from the day though, done up in her dress that hugged perfectly at her body. He felt pulled to her by some force. Maybe it was the Force, telling him to finally act on something that he had long repressed.

"Well," And he stepped closer to her, the pair of them facing each other in the doorway. "Goodnight…" But his final thoughts were lost as she placed a gentle kiss to his lips before turning and disappearing into her own room.

* * *

The days were too long, the nights were too short. After that first kiss, there had been many more to follow, stolen in quiet spaces when she wasn't brusquely called away. After what felt like dozens of those, tasting each other, feeling the thoughts that had overwhelmed them both, there was more. What had been stolen moments, became stolen hours under the shadow of nightfall, where he spent them in her room.

They were careful, no one saw them. He rose far too early and returned to his own quarters only to sleep of the last of the night's exertions. She never let on in meetings, even when hovered at the background as she spoke in her authoritative zone. His ribs were barely bruised now, and as she touched them, she was gentle, outlining the bruises that remained with gentle fingers.

His holiday, once a thought of as a despair to himself, had become something tangible and incredible. He could finally feel the love he had restrained, feel himself healing emotionally, tapping back into his connection with the living force, feeling it move around them whenever he looked at, or his thoughts strayed to her.

"Have you been enjoying your holiday, Master Jedi?" He watched the back of Satine's head as one of her aids spoke to him, watching her soft wisps of blonde hair fall over her shoulders. He turned to look at the woman who was asking him, also offering him a glass of sparklingly clear water.

"Yes, I believe I am."


	8. If I Stay: Rated K

(A/N) Request fic from HarryLee94 on Tumblr! Excited to have it on both! If you aren't following me on Tumblr, I'd love to have you on there! See my profile for more details :)

Prompt: What of Obi-Wan stayed with Satine all those years ago?

He took the knife and flipped it over in his hands, the silver blade catching the light off the glow of the bathroom mirror before he raised it to his ear. He heard the sound of it cleaving through the tightly wound hair, and in a moment, he held his braid in his hand. He examined himself in the mirror, without it, he hardly noticed a difference. For once, his stoic appearance did not match how he felt.

He threaded the braid around careful fingers. He would give it to her. He could not bear to throw it away, not yet. He needed it for himself, a consistent reminder of all that he had given away for what he hoped would now be a grand adventure. It was the one action he had taken for himself, it was the one thing that now he could not turn back from.

He stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the knife angled on the edge of the sink. He would return to put it away later, he needed to see her now. She was easy enough to find, she was waiting for him at the end of the long hallway, watching out of the window at the ruins of what had once been the great capital of Mandalore. His eyes followed hers, they were watching the landing platform where what had been the Jedi ship had disappeared only minutes prior.

"I was afraid I would be standing here watching you leave as well." The words were simple: laced with no emotion. They were spoken as she was, the Duchess, self-assured and confident. And yet they contained a clear truth within them. If she would have been able to bear to watch him leave as Qui-Gon had now done, she never would have asked him to stay. If he had been able to leave after her request, he would never have this moment with her, where he entwined their arms and pressed his severed Padawan braid into her hand as she looked at him.

"It's not something you have to worry about, Satine." She turned to face him, her face cleared off all evidence of their last year spent in hiding with the exception of her fierce expression, tempered only by a soft glow of love that emanated from her eyes. His eyes went down to her fingers, where a simple band, inlaid with a small blue stone rested on her fingers. There had been no point in waiting; they were to be married soon, a Duchess and her consort of a planet in desperate need of help. "I have no intention of leaving you."

* * *

She circled around him slowly, her motions in perfect time with his as he spun her around the dancefloor of the chapel they had been wedded in less than an hour before. True to cause, they were some of the last to leave, moving in quiet steps to the music that still played.

"I'm still not sure about the beard," She said, teasingly, "It hides too much of your handsome face." He laughed, even though he could hear the serious tone of her words. His hair was longer, his facial hair not having to be shaved off for the first time in his life. He looked far older than he had, no longer the view of a Jedi Apprentice, but that of a man who was now navigating the political landscape of a planet he was not from. The force still hummed around him, he used it as a comfort, and it was as much of one as Satine was to him. He was coming to terms with the true consequences of his actions, but now, his arms wrapped around her, shuffling slowly to music, having shared their first kiss as husband and wife, he finally felt the unrest settle within him.

"Well, your Grace, there's a seaside cottage waiting for us, and the night fast approaches." He kissed her cheek softly. "What do you say we leave all of this behind for a while?"

* * *

It had begun like an ordinary morning. He had awoken first, his old habit of rising well before dawn never quite leaving him. She had been curled against him, and he was loathe to leave her, but some strange force had compelled him. He had felt the disturbance, and as he dressed, he could not push it from his mind.

The day continued as normal, he went through his habitual duties at the palace, worked manually to help with the repairs of the city gardens; spent lunch with Satine and a brief time after alone in meditation. It was then, during his meditation, that he felt the severance of their bond. He had not even fully realized it was still fully intact until, as though someone had punched him, it suddenly evaporated.

He had gone to her then, and she, seeing the distraught pull of his features, had pulled him close, knowing that something, though she couldn't possibly know what, had happened to hurt him. He was grateful for her touch. He whispered what he now knew to be the truth into her ear, and they spent the evening in almost silence, ruminating on what it meant for the pair of them. He had cried, and was grateful that when he looked over to her, she was doing the same.

And then, for perhaps the first time, he was grateful for his choice. That this sort of pain was a kind that one did not have to suffer alone.

* * *

"He's perfect." She brushes back the baby's soft hair, her face still red and exhausted form the effort.

"He's more than perfect." And this small, very red little person perks up at the sound of his voice. He can feel the once surrounding them, and at first, he thinks it is for their family. Then he realizes, in more of a shock than it should have been, that it is emanating from the baby. He lets the bond grow between them, and the hole that has been pulling at his side since his old master's death begins to knit itself back together. "Can I hold him?"

She laughs lightly at that, that he would bother to ask to hold his own child. He takes him carefully in his own arms, a small, unnamed baby with whom he can already feel a connection. He smiles, and the small person cocks his head at him. He is hours old, but he can already tell that save for the dark blue eyes, he is going to resemble his mother. He likes the thought of it, for their son, the gift they have been given, the future ruler of Mandalore, will look like an easy combination of the pair of them.

He touches the baby's cheek softly, and in turn, a small set of red fingers wraps its way around his pinky.


	9. More than a Jedi Practice: Rated K

(A/N) Request from Sassmasterobiwan on Tumblr! Obi-Wan and Satine meditate together :)

Hope you enjoy, please R and R! Have a great Easter if you celebrate such!

"I don't understand how you can be content to simply sit there for hours," He blinked at her, and she felt her exasperation rising. The other Jedi, his master, at least knew how to carry easy conversation. She had expected Obi-Wan, being a Padawan, far younger, close to her age; to be more open. He was in fact a good deal more reserved, and rarely, except for an occasional frown at coming danger or a twitching smile as she argued with Qu-Gon on the tenants of pacifism, he had shown nothing of his feelings.

Now, he was seated across from her, the pair having taken shelter in old rubble that had been destroyed in the revolts. The older Jedi had left them there, scouting ahead to map out there route, and shortly after his departure, his apprentice had taken to sitting, his feet pressed together, his back perfectly straight, his eyes shut, against one of the walls.

"Meditation is a common Jedi practice, your Grace." He answered, his monotone voice betraying no annoyance at her words, though she realized she might have been rude. "It allows us to connect with ourselves and with the force on a level not allowed in ordinary times."

He shifted his weight, closing his eyes to resume his meditation. But the thought of sitting there, watching him for who knew how long was not something she could bear. "I still don't quite understand how you can manage it without getting bored."

Although it may have been a flicker of her imagination, she thought she saw his lips tighten and had to hide her smirk that she had finally gotten this perfect Padawan to crack. "It is not quite as boring as you might imagine, your Grace…"

"You can call me Satine." She held up a hand. Qui-Gon had abandoned the pretense of calling her by her title to allow for a more amicable feel between them.

"Thank you." But she noticed he did not use her name. "Meditation is not boring, it is necessary to a Jedi's life."

She thought back to her conversation with Master Qui-Gon the night before, when she had asked him of the tenants of being a Jedi. "It seems many things are necessary to a Jedi's life."

"It is true." And this time, the amusement she saw on his face was real. "Many beings find peace in meditation, perhaps you would be able to do the same, your Grace."

"Satine." She said, and he let out the smallest of sighs. To his surprise, though it only persisted for a moment in his gaze, she moved to mirror his pose. "Alright, Master Jedi, what now?"

"I am not a Master. I am a Padawan." She raised her eyebrows at him, "You may call me Obi-Wan."

"Only if you call me Satine, Master—"

"I can do that, Satine." This time he stopped her, and for the first time, they shared a small smile. She thought this could actually be quite nice, that he could be quite nice if he could move past this image he had created for himself. "Relax, let your feelings flow through you. For Jedi, we use the force, I'm unsure what other beings do, but I imagine the process would be much the same."

She raised her eyebrows again in disbelief at how quickly he had gone back to being the mask of a perfectly stoic Jedi. He settled, straightening his spine, his eyes closing. She sighed, and watched his lips twitch, before she decided to mirror his stance, thinking back to all that had happened over the last few weeks.

* * *

Qui-Gon stepped through the rubble of an abandoned city, following the low signal and almost untraceable signal of his Padawan's comlink. He had been scouting for over three hours, and though he had secured useful information, it had been his own way of attempting to ease the tension between the young Duchess and Obi-Wan. His Padawan was the picture of self-control, restraint, and self-determinacies. There were occasions where Jedi must too be friendly, and able to connect with other beings through the living force. It was one of the only skills that Obi-Wan truly lacked on his path to becoming a Jedi Knight. One that it was more than Qui-Gon could do to teach him.

He moved carefully through the fallen rubble, a single misstep could through off the balance of his large frame not suited for such close quarters. He moved to the building they were sheltering in, and was going to speak, address them both, before he saw what was happening.

His apprentice was sitting in his normal meditative stance, and he could feel the force moving around him as it normally did. However, his lips were slightly turned upwards in a hint of a smile as sitting across from him, the rounded curves of their knees touching, as she mirrored his stance. He reached out with the living force, and surprisingly, felt Obi-Wan's force signature not only wrap protectively around his apprentice, but also around her.

He couldn't keep the tired smile off of his face, his plan had been successful. Maybe, just maybe, his apprentice could find more than friendship on this mission. Perhaps he could find himself.


End file.
